Happy 2024!

Well, we made it. By December 27 2023, we'd been married for 50 years. This has passed alarmingly fast. 

When the actual day dawned, none of our family could be with us, having Christmassed with their in-laws (but sent flowers and chocolates), so we'd decided to have a Jane-Austenish "At Home", inviting friends and neighbours to pop in for a drink and a piece of cake between 2 and 6. We didn't put RSVP on the invitations because we didn't want to make it like a formal party; also we didn't want people to feel committed in advance, the time of year being what it is. Some did reply but on the whole we had little idea how many would come. Obviously we did provide a bit more than cake. However, lots of people did come, and didn't just "pop", as we'd expected, but came and sat around and chatted. It was lovely, and also quite crowded! But fortunately we have lot of chairs. 

Then shortly after the last of those people left, my brother, sister-in-law and niece arrived, and shortly after them our second daughter with her husband and Littlest Granddaughter. 

On the 30th, by which time Daughter 1 and family had returned from down south and Son and family could also join us, we had a family lunch in a private room in a hotel - which was also very nice. The offspring had organised their children into matching clothes - a starry dress for the girls (10, 7 and 6) and matching jumpers (sweaters) for the boys (12 and 4). I have very cute photos! But they're unbloggable, because the photos contain The UnBloggables. 

And then we all came back here (except Niece and SIL 2, who had to return down south) and had a second Christmas for those who hadn't been here. 

We've thus had 10 people (plus Mr L and me) staying in the house, though no more than 8 (plus us) at one time. It was busy, but lovely. But the last four left on Tuesday, the bedding and towels are now washed, though the beds have not yet been remade, and the house is gradually returning to normal - or at least it will once we've deChristmassed it, which would happen today if I had time, which I don't. This weekend, however, everything will be away and we'll be tidy for a while.

My golden wedding present from Mr L? (We have enough stuff.) He shaved off his lockdown beard! He knew that I prefer his face beardless. (I do like his face in whatever form, so he's allowed to grow it again if he really wants.)

Happy 2024!
 

Like an arrow

Continuing - or really restarting - my attempts to sort out bits of historical paper - I came across some photos which weren't in the right place, such as this one, of our children in about 1987. I can't quite believe that they're not still like this. They're so cute.

But elderly life continues apace and Big Granddaughter and I went to the local park. She's lovely too. 

We went on a five mile, between-the-parks, winter walk with our walking friends. Here's our horticulturist friend telling us all about the life cycle of the hazel. 

Daughter 2 is doing a woodworking course, making a stool. 

Back to the archives, here's a postcard to my brother, from my parents (well, my dad really). It says, "In this picture you can see the kind of trams they have in Sheffield. Love from Mummy and Daddy." It's clear where Big Grandson's obsession with transport comes from - though it also comes from Mr L.

And here's something that epitomises time passing: part of the editorial from the 1974 edition of the magazine of the school where I started teaching at the beginning of that school year, August 1973. Clearly the writer shared my feeling (at the time) that 2024 was an impossibly distant date at which time (if it ever came) things would be entirely different. And so they are; and so they're not.

While I'm finding it interesting to look through all these (and many other) things, I regret to say that not many of them have got thrown out yet. But some will. Definitely. Maybe tomorrow. 

 

Autumn and things

Daughter 2 and Littlest Granddaughter went away on Wednesday. It always takes me a few days to become less sad when they go. Yesterday we went to the Botanics, which as always made me feel slightly better. 

It's been a very mild autumn. I know that this is global warming and thus a bad thing, but actually the effects so far on the Scottish climate have on the whole been very pleasant. One feels guilty at enjoying it, but all the same, one does, a bit.

The colours are still lovely, though the leaves are beginning to fall. 

I've been worried all week because Big Grandson has been away on his first school trip at an adventure centre. He was a bit anxious about going. The centre has things like climbing walls and treetop rope walks and waterfall-climbing, and though he likes cycling and swimming and running about, he's not physically adventurous when it comes to being high up. (Nor am I.) And he doesn't need much sleep, so I've been thinking about him wide awake while the other boys in the dorm were asleep. I was always the one at Guide camps who couldn't get to sleep, lying in the dark on the cold, hard ground amid steadily-breathing fellow Guides. (He wasn't camping, though; he got a bed.) However, he got home today and though we haven't seen him as we usually do on Fridays, he appears to be cheerful. His Dad's brother and family are visiting at the moment, so we'll see him later in the weekend.

At 5 o'clock this afternoon I wondered what the date was - oh, the 28th. That's our engagement anniversary. When did we get engaged? 1972. So that meant that it was, so to speak, our golden engagement anniversary. 50 years. That went past alarmingly fast. It was a bit late to do anything to celebrate, so we didn't. And I actually felt quite nostalgic - 50 years ago we were young, with our lives before us, and our parents were alive, and various sad things that happened later were still undreamt of. But really I shouldn't feel sad because we've had lucky lives compared to many people. And Big Grandson is home, safe and sound. 

A part of the main

 

Last weekend, Daughter 2 and Littlest Granddaughter came up from London, which was lovely. We went to the playpark,

where fortunately Daughter 2 was able to climb up on this thing to help the little one down again. I would have found it rather tricky...

And we walked through the flowery bit of the park, 

admiring the herbaceous borders. I do like a good herbaceous border. 

Then we came home and little A washed the stones from the pebble pool,

as you do,

and played in the sandpit. And the Edinburgh cousins came round and it was all very lovely. Then Daughter 2 and Little A went away again, which was very unlovely. 

On Tuesday, the last day of the summer holidays, Mr Life took Big Grandson to the Glasgow transport museum by train and subway - very exciting if you like such things - while Big Granddaughter and I went to North Queensferry, on a different train, to visit Deep Sea World. 

We'd been before when she was tiny, but she didn't remember. As you might imagine, there were lots of fish

and a few seals. 

The last time we came here it was by car and we went straight to the car park, so I'd never actually wandered through the village before. It was quite historic and pretty. I've often been to South Queensferry (pay attention, now), which is on the Edinburgh side of the river, but this is North Queensferry, on the far side. It's all of about ten minutes from Edinburgh by train, so I don't know why we've never been before. I must return to have a further wander.  

If you look above the houses on the left, you can see the Forth (Rail) Bridge looming over them. 

And in this direction are the road bridges. 

We didn't drink from this spring. I'm sure it was fine in Queen Victoria's day and even now it would probably have been all right. On the other hand, it might not have been. 

And then we climbed up the rather steep road to the station. It was very nice to spend time with Biggest alone. And now she's back to school and in Primary 4 - so grown up! (Well, she's 8. Not really that grown up.)

Over in Angus, Medium Granddaughter is now at school. Which means that I'm five years older than I was when she was born. This is rather alarming. I wonder how many further sets of five years I have left? Who knows for whom the bell is about to toll..? Hmm. 

Covid and Devouring Time

I have never (she said, wondering if past bloggy Februarys bear out this claim) in my 70.5 years been so happy to see snow departing and spring bulbs flowering. Look: grass. I'm already planning to have sweet peas clothing that new fence. I'm not terribly good at growing sweet peas but then I've never had a whole bare fence to grow them up before, so I'm hopeful. 

Other than that - the Edinburgh grandchildren have come and built stuff in the sitting room, 

and I've been helping to home school them (why has no single one of our grandchildren's teachers, in five years, yet been able to distinguish between "practice" the noun and "practise" the verb? Biggest Granddaughter had a whole list of spelling words to "practice" writing in sentences today. I know Americans spell them the same way, which is very sensible, but we don't. Yet.)

We sent for new sledges. We're ready for you, next snow! But not till next year, please. 

I always read in the bath and a couple of days ago... the book suddenly tipped over and fell into the water. Ooops. It's not the first time but it doesn't happen very often. I used to have a good bath book-rack - oh well, all right, it was actually a soap-rack - but this became rather elderly and scruffy and I've never found another that fits properly, or at least not one for a non-ridiculous price. So I now use a cheap one that's slightly too small, so of course I don't balance the book on this (too liable to collapse) but on the edge of the bath. From where it tipped. Sorry, selected letters of Vanessa Bell. The book's still perfectly readable but I feel bad. 

Mr L showed a viewer round Daughter 2's Edinburgh flat today. I don't suppose he'll buy it but he seemed more interested than previous viewers. I hope he doesn't offer a ridiculous price, though, causing a dilemma. 

There are rumours that our Great Leader is contemplating easing restrictions, very slowly. But trips to London will probably not be on the cards for months. Maybe we'll be able to go as far as Son's house before that? Who knows? Sometimes it just seems too much to bear. And the days turn to weeks and the weeks turn to months and the months nearly add up to a year already. Devouring Time. I definitely need to start a quilt. 

 

Lockdown week 11 - Thursday

Foxgloves seed themselves in the garden and I often allow them to grow, because they're pretty and not really invasive. They go nicely with lupins.

Some are pink and some white.

We climbed Corstophine Hill today, going up the path between the two halves of Murrayfield Golf Course. 

This is what it looked like at the beginning of lockdown. This illustrates the length of time since we last saw two of our children and three of our grandchildren. What a change. 

I looked over the wall to see the golfers on our - no, no, really their - course.

I went through the gate briefly to look down at my little crossroads.

Then we climbed up to the highest part of this side of the hill. There are more golfers, looking so tiny far below.

At this point we met some friends and had a chat. This was so nice!

And then we descended the other side of the hill. See this oak tree?

This is what it looked like at the beginning of lockdown. I fear that it may be losing its leaves again before the end of it. 

But the campion is beautiful here.

And it's nice looking over at the hills.

And the foxgloves here are much better than in my garden! They're all over the hill at the moment. So pretty.

And 39 years ago, Daughter 2 and I were doing this. Happy birthday, my darling girl. Wish you were here. I was nearly 31, younger than she is now, which is a strange thought. (I still have that sponge bag... .)

Basically babies

It's quite an emotional time at the moment, what with one thing and another. We went to visit Son, Daughter-in-Law and Middle Granddaughter yesterday. Here we are playing with her on the floor. She's beginning to accept us as members of her servant tribe, which is lovely but also sad, since we won't see her again for another few weeks.

Once more she fed the ducks.

We went to the soft play centre. Here she is, seeing her Grandpa one floor below and waving to him. We were amazed and delighted - he was some distance away.

And now Littlest Granddaughter and her mum have come for a few days. She's keen to stand up (at not quite five months) - so advanced...

We've been comparing her with photos of her mum.

I think they're quite similar. I wish I were more similar than I now am to that young woman holding Daughter 2. Where did she go?

Littlest Granddaughter is very interested in her hands.

This is Daughter 2 again.

And we've been sorting photos out for a slide show after my aunt's funeral. Here she is, on the left, with my late dad and my other aunt, who alone of the three suffered from dementia for several years before she died. Such a random and awful disease and one which I do hope I haven't inherited.

And tomorrow we go to the funeral of one of my parents' best friends. Life is short.

But, on the other hand, it's frequently sweet.